If Tomorrow Ever Comes
by epic-fail-101
Summary: After the death of her father, Clary & her mother Jocelyn move to Idris, as a hope to mend their now dysfunctional family. Once there, Clary befriends the Lightwood family, but there is one with golden eyes named Jace that catches her attention. All Human
1. Ants

**Chapter 1:** Prologue

**Author's note:** This is only my second fanfiction, and as my first story was a one-shot, I don't think it really counts. Here is my first attempt as a multi chapter story and hopefully I can receiver loads of reviews (hint, hint – REVIEW). Please say any comments or ways of improvement on my story. Thank you. I have no idea what a disclaimer is or what it's for, but I'll just say this...I do not own any of Cassandra Clare's amazing work, all praise for the Mortal instruments series goes towards Cassandra Clare and if it's about my story, then I think I'll split it 50/50.

**Summary: **After the death of her father, Clary and her mother, Jocelyn move to a small town called Idris, as a hope to mend their now dysfunctional family. Once there, Clary befriends the Lightwood family, but there is the one with golden eyes that catches her attention...

**Clary's POV**

In order for ants the safest route to food, one goes out on its own. When that lone ant has found the path, it leaves a chemical trail for the others to follow. When you stamp on a line of ants, or, less psychotically, if you interfere in their in their chemical trail in any way, it drives them insane. The ones that have been left behind crawl around frantically in panic, trying to regain the trail. I like watching them at first, totally disorientated, running around bumping into one another while trying to figure out which way to go, then regrouping, reorganising, and eventually crossing the pathway back in their straight line as if nothing had ever happened.

Their panic reminds Mum and I. Somebody broke our line, took out our leader, and ruined our trail as our lives descended into utter chaos. I suppose, no, I_ hope_, that with time, we'll find the right way to go. It talks one to lead the rest. I think, seeing as Mum is sitting this one out as she's like a walking corpse, occasionally humming every once in a while, as if testing herself if she really is alive. I know that it is up to me to go up front. Alone.

Sorry about the very short prologue, although I promise to update as soon as I have enough reviews! Tell me watch you think about the 1st chapter and any ways to improve. :^))

Thank you,

Bookworm24mjk


	2. New Beginnings

**Chapter 2: New Beginnings**

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><p><strong>Authors note: i would just like to say <strong>Thank you to:

- Taylor Jade

- allymusicstar.713,

- Brittm123,

- Nikki Gargol

- Blue Lily96

Thank you for reviewing the last chapter. All of your comments were taken on board and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please tell me what was both good and bad about it and any improvements that I could develop on. i hope that i did not disappoint you with this next chapter. Please review.

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><p><strong>Clary POV<strong>

I woke up to the sound of the distant cries of my mother through the thin walls of our new house. Exhaustion consumes me to my very core. I glance at the alarm clock on my bedside table. 7:34am. Slowly, I push the thin material of my duvet and leave the only item that holds a sense of warmth and security in the whole house. When my mother and I moved from Brooklyn, New York to the sunny countryside of Idris, we did not expect the sudden change of the atmosphere. Greenery consumes the entire town, emitting a sense of isolation with dense air filled with dislike and aversion.

I look inside my mother's room and find her clenched into a small ball on the bed, an expressionless look overshadowing her face. From far away you would think that she's fine. But up close, you can see that the bright pink lipstick that she usually wears it a touch uneven, her eyes are tired and soulless, like one of those TV shows houses on studio lots I used to watch – all facade, and no substance.

She moves around the house, drifting from room to room in a dressing gown with loosely flapping bell sleeves. Despite her swanlike room to room drifts, she's kicking furiously beneath the surface, thrashing around; trying to keep her head above the water, flashing me the occasional panicked smile over dinner just to let me know she's still here, though it does nothing to convince me.

My name is Clarissa Fairchild. Fairchild. One of those awful phrases I despise, two words that come together unnecessarily. Sometimes when telling people my name I drop a syllable, Clarissa Fair, which is ironic as I have never been anything of the sort. Or Clarissa Child, which mockingly suggest innocence and youth which I know nothing about. I'm seventeen years old, or so they tell me. I question my age now because I feel twice it.

The past few months I've aged more than a few years. Is that possible? Some that are open minded would say yes, anything is possible, well it's not. Anything is not probable. It is not possible to bring my father back to life. I tried, when I found him lying face down in his room floor in pool of his own blood. I didn't know what was doing when I pumped up and down on his chest, regardless of the icy cold touch of his skin. Or when my mother clawed at his coffin during his funeral, begging anyone or anything to bring him back to us once again.

It intrigues me how death can shine a light on the character of a person. The lovely stories I heard about my father, Valentine, were endless and touching. They were comforting and to be honest; I doubted if they were true. You see, my father wasn't a nice man, although he and I rarely spoke, but on the occasion that we did, it always ended in tears and raging fits of anger. Father had a temper that flared easily; he forced his opinions onto others and was rather arrogant. He made people feel uncomfortable, inferior, and he enjoyed that.

I didn't say any of this at his funeral though, or at the party that was held at our house afterwards. In fact, I didn't say anything at all. I drank half a bottle of red wine to help drown my sorrows, but ended up vomiting on the floor in my Father's office. That was where my mother found me the next day.

My mother and I moved to Idris hoping to start a new beginning. As soon as we arrived, my mother forced me to enrol at Idris High School. I was always a straight A student and attended advanced classes, and during the difficult times that were faced, I immersed myself into my studies as an escape from reality. There was a simple fact that was to be learnt from school. If you work hard enough you can have all the freedom you want.

You can travel the world and not be worried about how much it costs; you can stay at a hotel and never worry about what going to happen next. You don't need to worry if tomorrow ever comes. I lost my father. He lost his tomorrows and I lost the tomorrows with him. You could say that now, I appreciate them when they come. Tomorrow would be my first day at Idris High School. Now, I want to make my days the best they can possibly be.

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><p><strong>Please review.<strong>

**i also combined my first fanfiction with this chapter, so if you have already read my first story, you can see some similarities. **

**I really wanted to personify my personality through to Clary's. I hope you don't mind that she's super smart.**

**I tried to make it longer than the prologue, though I have almost completed the next chapter which is even longer that this one. I want to know how this chapter went. Was it better than the prologue? How could I improve? I need your guidance. **

**The next chapter will be posted as soon as I get enough reviews. **

**Thank you for reading,**

**Bookworm24mjk**


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